Date: Wed, 19 Oct 2016 11:25:34 +0000
From: Jesse Gibson <revjpgibson@hotmail.com>
Subject: Heaven is a Place on Earth, chapter 1

			HEAVEN IS A PLACE ON EARTH
				    By
		  Rev Jesse Penfield Gibson, MDiv, D. Min

Disclaimer: This is story is fiction.  The location, characters and events
are all imaginary.  This story, in this and in later parts, contains a
many, many sins: both homosexual and heterosexual sex, intergenerational
sex, group sex, incest, pedophilia, transgendered sex, drug use (including
minors), alcohol use (including minors) and the like.  If this offends you,
be warned.  If this appeals to you, read on.


Please donate to Nifty to keep the stories coming.


				 Chapter 1
			     A Teacher's Tale

     The location is in the southeastern United States, on a bit of high
ground, surrounded by swamp.  Paul Morris's lawyer gave him a choice: go
there or go to prison for 40 years.  The state of Michigan had him dead to
rights and, because he had taken the boy to Chicago and fucked him there,
so did the federal government.  Their case was airtight.  Leaving meant
never coming back.  He would be a fugitive.  The instructions were precise.
Paul sold his car, bought a clunker with cash and pocketed the difference.
He cleaned out his bank account, maxed out his credit cards, sold
everything of any value.  He paid the lawyer his fee and left for a
thousand mile journey, careful to stop overnight only at fleabag hotels
that took cash and asked no questions.  The instructions told him that if
they ask for a credit card for incidentals, to leave.  There should be no
paper trail at all.

     The turnoff of the paved road onto a sandy road was 40 miles from the
interstate, through a larger town and then a very small town and well out
from that.  The sandy road took a couple of hairpin turns before he saw a
smaller road exactly where the directions said it would be.  Just beyond a
curve and into the tree line was a gate that hung on a tall, concertina
wire topped electric fence. Paul punched in the code that he had been given
and the gate swung open.  It was a half a mile further before the road, a
path really, opened into a clearing.  The first building he saw ahead was a
large log cabin.  The instructions said to stop there and that was it.

     Paul pounded on the door.  The man who answered was in his 20's, lean
and fit, shirtless and in shorts, his hair pulled back in a ponytail, his
torso covered in tattoo's, some professionally done and some not.

     "Yeah?" the man said, eyeing him suspiciously.  Paul was slightly to
one side and he could see an assault rifle propped against the wall inside,
in easy reach.

     "I was told to come here," Paul said, handing him an envelope.  "And
give someone this."

     The man turned the envelope over in his hand, first one side and then
the other, looking at it but not opening it.  Paul wondered if he could
even read.

     "You the teacher?" the man asked. When Paul said he was, the man
handed him back the letter.  "You can give it Big John.  He says you get
the last cabin in the row, down there past the pool. you have to use the
community shitter, shower too. You gotta satellite phone?"

     "No" Paul answered, a bit confused.

     "Good.  Cell phones don't work, no coverage.  And no fucking WiFi
either.  And we ain't got no fucking land line either.  No matter what
fucking happens, you ain't calling no fucking 911, teacher."

     Paul shrugged. He had no one to call at this point.  Respectable
people had abandoned him and his lawyer wanted to hear nothing from him,
nothing that would implicate him.  "I need a key to the cabin?"

    "Whatcha need a fucking key for? Somebody fucks with your shit, fuck
'em up."

     He drove over a small hill, past two prefab buildings with a pool
between them, down a dusty lane and past a substantial brick building. A
series of small cabins spread out from there and Paul went to the last one
in the line.  The heat and humidity outside was brutal.  It hit him like a
wave when he opened the car door.  He looked around his new home and
decided it was beyond depressing: brown and wilting in the June sun, so
humid you could almost drink the air, and perfectly still.  No one was
about.  The cabin was incredibly small, just enough to barely sleep two,
smaller than an efficiency apartment, with a sink and small stove and mini
fridge.  Prison could hardly be worse, he thought.  It didn't take long to
unload his few possessions.  He regretted that he hadn't brought more
books, though.  It seemed like that would be his sole entertainment and he
didn't have enough to last the rest of his life.

     Drenched in sweat from his minor labor, Paul decided that he would
shower off and look around.  He supposed the brick building to be community
shower.  There was a fairly elaborate playground area just beyond where his
cabin was and beyond that, at the highest point of the clearing, was a old
frame house with several outbuildings, probably an old farm.  There were
about a half dozen mobile homes and old Airstreams scattered about as well
as a substantial log cabin off near the tree line to his left.  He changed
into a pair of shorts, grabbed a towel and headed for the wash house.

    The smell of it was dank and moist, about what you would expect. There
were about a half dozen stalls, a few urinals, including for younger boys,
a line of sinks.  Beyond a small changing area where the showers and Paul
could hear the water running.  Either this was an all male place or the
wash house was unisex.  There was a boy in the shower, water running over
him.  He was fit and lean, about 16, with shoulder length hair streaked
bleach blond.  His pubic hair and arm pits were black though.  He wasn't
gorgeous but good looking enough, fresh and hot, and hung well enough to be
interesting.  Paul couldn't help but look.

     "You like what you see?" the boy said, grabbing his rig.

     Paul was caught off gaurd. "Huh?"

     "You new?"

     "Just got here today. I'm Paul" he said, sticking out his hand to
introduce himself.

     "Cole" the boy said, taking his hand.  He had a firm grip.  He
apparently was done with his shower because he turned the water off and
leaned against a wall casually, dripping.  "Oh yeah, you're the
teacher. Big John said you'd come.  If you want we can party some, get
high.  You know.  You're not bad looking for an old guy.  How old are you
anyway?"

	"36" Paul answered

	"Well, you're not fat and I'm pretty horny.  Unless you're into
younger boys?"

	"No, no" Paul answered.

        Cole grabbed a towel to dry off but didn't wrap up in it.  Paul
showered quickly, more quickly because the water was cold.  Cole told him
that was the way it was and sucked in winter, which Paul could only dread.
For the moment, he was interested in the boy.  Paul dried off and put on
his shorts but cole just threw his towel over his shoulder and headed out,
naked.

       "Ain't nobody gonna give a shit, you'll see," Cole said.  "It ain't
nothing here."

      Paul followed him, watching the boy's firm ass as he strode
confidently along.  He announced his cabin was right there and headed for
it.  Paul was aroused by the sight of a naked boy, confident in his nudity.
The cabin had it's windows and doors open, with screens on to protect
against the insects that surely outnumbered the people expotentially, to
catch whatever breeze it was.  Paul had to admit it probably would be
better to just be naked.  The heat sapped all life out of everything. Still
the boy was naked and delicious.

      Cole didn't close the door or the windows when they went in.  There
was no air conditioner, so that figured into it but Cole seemed unconcerned
if someone came along and saw them.  Of course, there seemed to be little
activity going on.  Cole was hard, his dick sticking up at a jaunty 45
degree angle.  Paul's dick was stirring too.  Cole was all over him, his
hands rammed down Paul's shorts as the older man came alive.  Paul leaned
in to kiss the boy but he backed away.

     "Fuck, dude," Cole said, "we gonna fuck, not get married.  I ain't
your fucking boyfriend."

     Paul backed off, grabbed the boy's dick hard. He could play it however
the boy wanted it.  That was the rule for him as a child molester.  Let the
kid set the boundaries.  This kid, though, seemed to have no boundaries.
Paul was soon naked and Cole sank to his knees, assuming the position to
suck cock.  The boy's mouth felt good.  It only took a short time for Paul
to realize that he was good at it, using his tongue, stroking the shaft of
it, minding his teeth.  He was clearly well practiced and skilled as a
cocksucker.  Cole sucked with abandon as Paul stroked his hair, going up
and down on the shaft.

     "You gotta nice dick" Cole said, flicking his tongue around the bright
red head of it.  "Nobody minds a big dick around here."

      Paul guided him back onto his big dick, to let him minister to it
more.  The boy was good enough at it to go after the balls, suck on those,
reach up and twist his nipple, smack his bare ass.  It was great.  Paul was
being blown by a hot stud and he didn't have to work at it all.  He was a
little worried about someone coming along and seeing them, of course.  The
letter in his room outlined his crimes.  It would only be a matter of time
before he was known as a child molester anyway, although his lawyer had
hinted that it might not matter here.

      Cole was on the bed, his legs spread apart, his uncut dick hard and
sticking up.  Paul got between his legs and swallowed that prick whole.  It
was well formed but not terribly long.  He used his lips and tongue to
massage the stiff member, pulling off and nibbling at the foreskin, running
his tongue underneath the shroud.  Paul had little experience with uncut
members but thought it sexy.  Cole responded to it.  He liked it.  Then
they sixty-nined, each taking the other in the mouth.

      "I am gonna fuck you," Cole announced.  "I fuck you but I don't get
fucked.  Nobody fucks me but Richie and Big John.  Maybe Manny if he asks
nice."

      "What if I'm a top?"

      "You ain't though"

      Paul had to admit that was true.  He enjoyed topping but preferred
bottoming.  Cole was only average sized and Paul knew he could take it. THe
boy had some vaseline and he slathered it on his dick and roughly jammed
his greased up fingers in Paul's ass.  Paul, alomst out habit, was going to
insist on a condom, fearful of HIV and the like, but figured that at this
point in his life that it mattered little.  He arched his back, buried his
face in the sheets, spread his legs and waited for the teenaged prick to
violate him.  Cole rammed it in hard and fast in one swift motion, his body
folding on top of Paul's.  Paul sighed.  It felt good.  He felt full,
uncomfortable but in a good way.  There is nothing quite like it, deeply
pleasurable mixed with just a tincture of pain, a body not knowing whether
to piss, shit or cum.

     Just as he was orally, the kid knew what to do. Although young, he had
clearly fucked many times.  At first, it was slow and steady, sliding his
whole length up inside Paul, then slowly backing out.  He would wiggle his
hips and Paul would shudder in pleasure. Sweat rolled off the boy's lean,
tight body in the humidity of the dying day, hitting Paul's back, the sweat
of two bodies coming together.  But Paul was horny and wanted more.

     "Harder" he said.

      Paul could almost here the smirk.  "You want it harder? Is that what
you fucking want?"

     "Yes.  Harder."

     "If I fuck you now, you gonna be up for round 2? I got friends and
they are gonna wanna rail on your ass." Cole slapped his ass harder enough
that the sting bit Paul, causing him to jerk.  Cole just grunted and said,
"This can either be heaven or hell, that's what Big JOhn says.  It's up to
you."

     Cole put his hand on the back of Paul's head, shoved it down onto to
the bed.  WIth his torso resting on his partner's back, Cole began to fuck
him unmercifully.  It was savage, hard ramming into his ass.  Paul was
still horny.  He loved teen boys and loved sex and had been without both
since his arrest.  He was bouncing backwards, trying to get Cole's dick
even further in him.  Cole wrapped an arm around Paul's upper body and just
dog fucked him, harder and more violent by the second.  Paul was loving it.
Precum was dripping off his hard dick.  He was afraid to even touch his
dick for fear that he would explode.

     "You like me fucking your faggot ass?"  Cole said as he slowed
temporarily, slapping Paul's ass hard.  "Is this what you wanted?"

     "Oh, God, yeah." Paul moaned.

     "Ain't no fucking god, not around here"

     Cole was trying to tear his ass up.  Not that Paul minded, it felt
great.  He was delirious with pleasure.  His dick was as hard as it had
ever been, leaking precum.  Paul buried his face in the sheets, just trying
to survive the ecstasy from his ass.  The boy fucked him without pity and
without let up. Harder and harder, grunting with each stroke.  Paul was
beginning to lose it. He just couldn't hold out.

     He grabbed his shaft, gave it two good tugs.  "Oh, fucking shit" Paul
cried out as he came.

     Cole fucked him hard all the way through Paul's orgasm but then pulled
out.

     "You don't have to stop" Paul told the boy as he fell on the bed next
to him.

      Cole laughed a little.  "I don't have to cum every time I fuck. I'm
gonna save it up for when I fuck you again later on."

      "Okay, it's a deal," Paul said with a laugh.  "How long have you
lived here?"

      "Since I was 8.  Big John bought me from my mom.  She was a junkie so
she sold me for a few bills and a shitload of ice, you know, Tina.  Meth.
She signed me over and then the bitch overdosed.  I lived at the farm til I
was 14 and now I work for Charlie, growing pot. He's teaching me and Sid
how to grow kick ass weed.  Sid's his boy."

      "His son?"

      "No, fuckoff," Cole said, punching him on the arm.  "His boy. You'll
see."

      "His lover?" Paul asked, knowing the answer. "So, a camp for
boylovers."

      "Nah," Cole said, his tone of voice surprised that Paul didn't know
the lay of the land. "There are women too, more guys though.  There's
Pussyville but they are kind of lesbo so they don't mingle so much. Same
for the men's camp, they're strictly gay. Well, not gay, not like fags or
nothing, they're too tough for that.  There's Dr Crane and his family.
There's all kinds."

      "You were a sex slave?"

      "Yeah," Cole said with a big grin.  "And I was the best one ever.
Even better than Manny.  Way better than Mario."

      It was late in the afternoon before there was any sign of life in the
camp.  Cole headed out briefly and came back with some food, mostly fruit
and some yogurt.  Pretty healthy, Paul had to admit. The boy tucked into it
with relish.  As dusk began to be more evident, Cole, still naked, led Paul
over to the pool.  There was a wiry, lean, gray haired man with a gray
beard sitting naked on a folding chair by the pool.  A younger man, like
Cole, in his mid teens coming up from the water, water dripping off his
rippled form.  He was in a pair of wet boxers that hid little, including a
firm ass.  He walked over to the older man and stood between his spread
legs as Cole and Paul approached.

      "This is Sid and Charlie.  Charlie's my boss.  THis is Paul.  He's
the teacher."

      Sid stared at him.  "Charlie teaches me what I need to know."

      "OK" Paul answered.  "I don't know that I am here to teach anybody
anything."

      The older man laughed and then wrapped his arms around Sid's waist
and pulled him closer.  "You are.  At least Big John thinks you are and
what Big John thinks has a way of happening.  And when you open the school,
Sid will be there because I want you to."

      Sid looked down and muttered simply okay.  Charlie patted him on the
ass and told him to go play with Cole so that the old men could talk about
the young men without them being around to listen.  After they left. Paul
looked at Charlie and said, "So, he's your sex slave?"

      "If it makes you feel morally superior to think so, then sure.  He's
my sex slave," charlie said with a shrug.  "I acquired him at the age of 6
because I thought he was beautiful.  It took him 2 years to crawl into my
bed but he's never left.  Personally, I would have no issue with you
sleeping with him but I doubt that it will happen.  He will have sex with
boys his own age, especially when he's drunk or under the influence but no
one other than me that's older.  That's his choice and it has to be
respected."

      "Well, I'm glad that you seem to love him.  It makes it less, well,
tawdry."

      Charlie shrugged.  He seemed indifferent to Paul's judgment.  A white
man nearer Charlie's age than Paul's came loping up with a trio of young
black boys in trail, all preadolescent and the two youngest naked and
hairless.  = By the pool, he grabbed a chair and waved off the boys.

     "Martin Deveraux, you must be the teacher.  We are glad to have you
here," the man said, sticking out his hands.  "These three lovelies are
Roquan, Jayson and Baccari.  I am a child pornographer, by the way, and
they are my stars.  I understand you are more of an admirer of teenaged
males, correct?"

      "Yes, older teenage boys. How old are your boys?" Paul asked

      Charlie smiled smugly as Martin answered, "Baccari is 10, Roquan 11
and Jayson 13 but he is, fortunately, a late bloomer.  I think though as
you get along here, you will grow less judgmental."

      Paul was stung.  "I am not judgmental.  I was just wondering what the
rules are here."

      Charlie shrugged.  "There aren't many rules.  We are anarchists and
we live outside the law.  Everybody does useful work to benefit the
community and no one lacks the essentials of life. The drugs are free, the
booze is free, the food is free and the sex can be more or less constant,
if you choose.  There is no age of consent, no statutory rape, no law
enforcement and no religion.  We don't really do morality around here."

      "I am beginning to understand that" Paul admitted.

      THe whole community turned out.  Miss Velma and Miss Alma, two
transwomen, one white and the other black, both brash and flamboyent,
provided the food, helped by their lover, Mr. James, who was female to
male.  Dr Crane and his family, a wife, a trio of teenagers and a younger
boy, introduced themselves to Paul.  The older teenaged boy, David, was
good looking but overtly straight and hanging all over his stepsister. The
younger teeanaged son, Luke, was a looker with brown curly hair and bright
blue eyes.  He was quiet and standoffish.  The youngest, Jackson, played
happily with the trio of black boys that Martin used for kiddie porn
videos.  There was grouping of young men and women of varying relationships
to each other that Paul had difficulty following.  One of them though was a
well known porn starlet of yesteryear, Amber Skye.  15 years ago, she had
been one of the most famous porn princesses there was.  Even Paul knew who
she was.  Now she was here. He vaguely remembered a scandal with an
underage co-star. There was a camp nearby that consisted of women only, 6
of them, with one lucky 19 year old stud.  Their camp was called Pussyville
and it was beyond a patch of trees centered on an abandoned rural church
that had been refurbished.  A corresponding camp for men out in the woods
had no cute name.  Those men were not effeminate at all.  Five of them were
in the late 20's or 30's. hairy. bearded, muscled, tattooed and not the
kind of men you would mess with.  The ponytailed guy that Paul met first
was one of them.  They had a trio of younger guys, mid to late teens, that
were a younger version, all hypermasculine.  That was the community that
Paul fell into, for the most part, about 60 in total and not a one of them
possessed even a single ounce of common morality as far as Paul could tell.

     Homemade booze was shared around and high quality smoke was passed
around too.  Apparently, partying until dawn was not uncommon here.  All
ages, it appeared, partook.  There was splashing around in the pool, loud
music and little kids running around naked and drunk or high, the adults
unconcerned or lecherously groping them.  Paul was pleasantly buzzed,
chatting with the doctor when Cole made his way back, accompanied by an
older boy and a younger.

     "Paul, this is Richie, he's Big John's son," Cole said, introducing a
nude teenage guy, tall, muscular with bit of gut and an impressive member.
He had black curly hair and bright blue eyes and some acne scars.  The
younger boy was also nude, a brown skinned latino who was skinny to the
point of being scrawny, with hands and feet too big for his body, a ring of
black curly hair around his average sized cock.  He did have a pair of low
riders, though.  "This is Manny.  He's a hot piece of ass."

     "I can tell that" Paul agreed.  The boy was mighty fine.

     "We're going to fuck.  In the play room." Richie told him.

     He got up and followed them down in the still, humid night air into
one of the side buildings.  The one was clearly a community hall and it had
been where the food and drink had been all night.  The other, smaller
building was a pretty well stocked gym with a playroom beyond it.  It was
made of concrete blocks and consisted of an open room with ceiling fans.
Paul could understand was nudity was common and most activity happened at
night.  It was too fucking hot.  Inside was like a barn, with stalls along
the sides.  At the far edge of the room, beyond the treadmills and weight
machines, was a sling and a bench and there was a St Andrew's cross against
the far wall.

    "HOw old are you?" Paul asked Manny.

    "He's 13.  Wthat the fuck does it matter?  There ain't no fucking
virgins here, teacher.  The sling, the fuck bench or the cross, your
choice."

    "The sling, I guess.  You don't believe in foreplay?"

    Richie reached up and grabbed him by the throat with one hand and
masturbated himself with the other.  "What fucking foreplay you want,
asshole?  I believe I'm fucking horny and me and my boys are going to wear
your ass out. Get in the fucking sling."

    Paul did like he was told.  His legs up in the air, his ass hanging out
waiting to be violated.  Richie decided that Manny would go first and Paul
was happy with that.  Manny was perfect: young, beautiful and just
beginning to be ripe.  All three boys were hard almost instantly. Manny,
being the shortest, had to stand on a box but he poked it in confidently.
His pole slid right on up in there and Paul thought he was in heaven.  A
gorgeous boy was fucking him. Paul liked watching his young lithe body
writh as he slipped his boyhood in and out.  The boy only had a whisper of
hair under his armpits and ring around his dick, not yet fully grown.
Perfect in Paul's estimation.  Paul wasn't proud of that but the boy, being
a boy, was enjoying what he was doing.

    It felt good too, skin on skin.  Richie's dick erect still curved down
and he shoved it into Paul's mouth.  He gagged a bit trying to take the
length of it in.  Cole was jacking himself, watching.  Paul was happy
enough to the to be their cum dump and he hoped for many more nights just
like this.  His legs were in the air above Manny's shoulders as the boy
shoved it in with a jerky, little boy rhythm.  But Manny did slap his older
lover's ass, the sting of it biting.

     Manny finished with a grunt and pulled out, cum dripping off his young
tool.  Ritchie told Cole to go next.  His prick was bigger and thicker and
Paul gasped as it went in.  But it felt fine and he was horny as hell, his
dick hard despite the fucking from earlier.  Then, he jerked in a start as
others came in.  It was an involuntary reaction and just for an instant.  A
group of 5 teenaged girls or young women came in with a trio of men in
their twenties, grabbed some mats and spread them out. Paul stuggled to
remember names but couldn't but he was uncomfortable about being there and
doing what he was doing. Richie noticed, pulled out his dick and slapped
him.

     "Listen, fucker," Richie snarled.  "You ain't in the real world no
more.  Around here, fucking is normal.  Fucking is what we do, all of us
from the youngest to the old Crone.  Don't nobody care, except if you do it
in here, whoever wants is free to join in."

    Soon the boys and girls were in a free for all orgy that was pretty
nasty and loud.  When Cole unloaded in Paul's ass, Richie took it up.
Being violated with that big weapon was enough to make Paul spew, covering
his himself in his own cum.  He just had to hold on and endure Richie
sodomizing him. He noticed that two more teenaged boys had wandered in,
Sid, the lover of Charlie the pot grower, and the younger of the Doctor's
teen boys, Luke.  They were naked and hard too.

    When Richie finished, Paul tried to struggle up out of the sling but
Richie stopped him.  "You leave when Sid and Luke have a turn"

	"Maybe I don't wanna" Sid said

	Cole went over to him and kissed the boy lightly on the cheek.  "It
ain't cheating Sid.  It's just fun, a new piece of ass.  Charlie don't
care. "

	"I'll fuck him" Luke said.

	He slapped Paul's ass with his dick.  He slid his dick into Paul's
well cummed ass.  He fucked him hard and fast, dropping a load in.  Sid,
reluctantly, took his place and fucked him then.

    An hour later, Paul found himself paddling back in the darkest part of
night down the dusty path to his cabin, little Manny having insisted on
coming with him.  In addition to fucking Paul, Cole had buggered him too
while Luke was taking his turn on Paul's by now sore ass.  Both the man and
the boy were naked since Paul couldn't remember where he left his clothes
and Manny, he thoutght, had been naked the whole time.  In the cabin, Paul
laid on top of the covers, the window air conditioner being unable to keep
up with the heat and Manny lay next to him.  He was trying to make out.

    "I am all fucked out" Paul admitted to the boy.  A look of
disappointment swept across the boy's face and then a look of unsatisfied
hunger.  "But if you need, I can suck you off."

    Manny smiled and presented his dick to Paul.

    It was past midday when Paul awoke to sound of banging on his door and
then the door crashing open.  He jumped up with a start and saw a tall
middle aged man, lean and muscular, dressed only in shorts, obviously with
a prominent bulge.

	"You must be Big John" Paul said, sticking out my hand to shake his
in a gesture of friendship. No one had exactly said but he got the
impression that Big John was someone to be wary of.

	"John Van Auslander," he said, shaking his hand with a firm grip
but no sign of friendliness.  "But some people call me Big John.  I was
looking for young Manny since he didn't come home and I figured that he
would be with Cole and Richie."

	"Well, he's here, inside, safe and sound" Paul said.

	"And it would seem that you're digging in my garden.  Richie can
fuck who he wants and Cole is to be expected.  His sexuality is a force of
nature but Manny's sweet, delicious little ass is mine."

	"You own him?" Paul said, his arms folded across his chest, his
posture and tone angry.

	"In a manner of speaking"

	"And who does that work exactly? I heard that slavery is illegal."

	Big John laughed.  "There's no law here.  And there's nobody here
that wants there to be any law here.  The way it works is that I have
certain business associates who know or can guess at my particular
interests and help me out.  The profits from that business help fund this
little haven, this law-free, religion-free, morality-free oasis in the
swamp.  An oasis that welcomes teachers that molest students, for instance.
How old was the boy anyway?"

	"Fifteen" Paul admitted.

	"Not when you started he wasn't"

	"No, he was 13" Paul said. "He had been moved up a grade."

	Big John smiled and peaked in the doorway.  "And he wasn't the
first either, Mr. Morris.  There are others coming forward and telling
their stories too."

	"No he wasn't the only one"

	"And only boys?"

	"Yes"

	"Personally, the gender matters less to me than the age and level
of development," Big John said, leaning against the rail.  "Which is to say
that I prefer them to be undeveloped.  Cole was 8.  His mother pimped him
out for drugs and I made her a deal. Manny was being introduced to the
trade by an older brother when he was 10.  Richie, well, Richie cannot
remember a time when his pee-pee wasn't being played with. "

	He seemed to be inviting Paul to try and take the moral high ground
again.  After all, Paul preferred boys that were older and more physically
mature but he recognized that they were the same, more or less.  Big John
was just better at it.

	  "What sort of business?" Paul asked with a little dread.

	"The illegal kind, obviously.  I found that being illegal lets me
be immoral too," Big John laughed.  "I am the largest producer of MDMA east
of the Mississippi and the world's largest producer of LSD, not mention
more exotic psychedelics like 2-CB and the like.  I have continued
Dr. Shulgin's research and have even synthesized compounds that he doesn't
know about, including a very special one that I call Erosia."

	"Erosia?"

	He smiled.  "Yes.  It is only mildly hallucinogenic, not much at
all really.  Less than ecstasy, for instance.  But it stimulates the
nucleus accumbens far better than any of the tryptamines or other
phenethylamines.  That's the brain's pleasure center.  But it also
stimulates the brain's sex centers. It is the world's only true
aphrodisiac.  However, with repeated dosing, especially in children and
young adolescents, it leaves them essentially rewired.  For them, most end
up bisexual in terms of orientation and hypersexual in terms of behavior.
So if you don't mind, I'm here to pick up my oldest active boy.  He's going
to wake up horny because he always does and today I feel like a little boy
ass for breakfast.  Later on, I'll discuss a deal with you. We need a
teacher and I guess you'll do.  You can teach instead of paying rent."

	"I had to surrender my teaching license" Paul pointed out to him.

	"No matter.  The lawful authorities wouldn't approve of any of
this, now would they?  You can think of this as the best teaching job ever:
people are going to expect that you molest the students. You'll need to
keep it interesting since attendance will be voluntary.  We're not going to
piss off our bedmates by insisting that they do something they don't want
to do now are we?"